Everlasting
by Nikore
Summary: Someone plans for Bad Luck's first concert to be their last. It's through Ryuichi's POV, in present tense and first person. A couple of mistakes are fixed now.. it's PG-13 only for some violence. :x Please R+R.
1. 1: Chorus

Basic Author's Notes: I know that in the second chapter, the POV and verb tense changes. It's supposed to. ^^; I do not own Gravitation, and I am not making a penny off of this. Likewise, the song-but-not-a-song idea isn't mine. It was inspired by other fiction. Also, I've only seen up to episode 4 of Gravi and this is my first Gravitation fic, so that's why there might be any oddities. Since these characters've never been in this kind of situation, some might regard them as a little OOC. Now, please enjoy despite the fact that this isn't a happy fic and R&R. ^_^ If you have a problem with the unlikeliness.. then it's AU. :P :P  
  
  
  
Everlasting 1: Chorus  
  
  
Last night, I dreamt of Shuichi again. It had been perfect, and if it's possible, it's even better tonight. It was Bad Luck's first concert, and Shuichi looks and sounds better than he ever has. The blue, purple, and red circling spotlights enhance his fuschia hair, amethyst eyes, and the tight black leather he's wearing.   
  
It's possibly Shuichi's best singing really, but the even more beautiful song is the audience's. As ethereal as Shuichi's singing is, the melody of thousands of pleased, excited fans is even more taking. They aren't literally singing, of course... when I told Tohma about it, he made a half-interested comment about ESP, but that's not it. I... can't explain it.   
  
Everyone thinks I'm incredibly talented, but the truth is that I'm nothing more than a translator. The songs I sing, the ones we record as Nittle Grasper, already existed long before I did. I've just listened and made them into sound.   
  
  
Now I realize that something's wrong; not with Shuuichi, in the audience. Their song is like something out of a fairy tale, but still there's something off. Like someone singing off-key in an elite choir. I filter out the rest of the music until I can trace the singer; third row, fifth from the left. Aizawa Taki, the lead singer of ASK. I know him through Shuuichi, and he's a definite threat. He's been Bad Luck's rival since the day I stepped on stage and sang with Shuichi at their first performance ever. He would sell his soul to be the better of them.   
  
I know what I need to do. I cast a long glance at Kumagorou and kiss his forehead, leaving him to K with insrtuctions to give it to Shuichi later. Bad Luck's doing a tribute to Nittle Grasper by performing their version of Sleepless Beauty. Shuuichi plans to do it alone, but I have other plans. I step out onto the stage with a microphone and a cheerful wave to the audience, striding to stand to the front slight left of Shuuichi. All the females squeal, and I crinkle my eyes at them before they melt.   
  
Shuuichi's boyish face is poised in a surprised expression, his eyebrows arched and raised, his perfect lips making a round o. Then he crinkles up his eyes in the cute smile he learned from me so many years ago as he starts out with the opening of our song.   
  
tooku de me o hikarasete, mezameru monetachi matte iru...   
  
I'm sorry, Shuichi. I really am. 


	2. 2: Final Verse

Everlasting 2: Final Verse  
  
  
When he sings my song, Shuuichi's even better. Color has seemed to spring form his very core, and it shows in both his exterior and his voice. His smile's much more genuine than I've ever seen it, and he's even more laid back than I am.   
  
Mentally, I apologize to him again.   
  
Tachi's arm twitches.   
  
My microphone's steadily released from my grip on it.   
  
Slowly, Tachi's arm extends toward the stage. Not just the stage. Shuuichi. Dark grey metal glints in the concert's colored lights.   
  
I turn and throw myself at Shuichi, my barely larger build meeting his chest and covering for him. Instinctively, my arms clasp around his neck.   
  
For a single second, everyone's songs, even my own, are overpowered by a gunshot. Only for a split second am I able to hear the songs again, but now the beats are panicked and the pitches shrill. Then there's an explosion in my back-- only the size of a quarter, but more devastating than a crowbar to the head.   
  
  
  
Shuichi crumbled under the older man's weight. For a second, he had thought that the flamboyant singer had done it as a publicity stunt or had actually just lost it. Then the gun had fired, and as Ryuichi's stong, experienced knees buckled, he realized what happened. Now laying with him crumpled on top of Shuichi, he started to spread him on his back on the stage when it dawned on him that his legs had become nothing but dead weight. His spine was damaged by the bullet, and if by some miracle he lived, he would never walk again.   
  
Feebly, his friend and idol smiled. "Shu-chan... don't worry. This way I won't fade out."   
  
"You could never fade, Sakuma-san." Salty water crept from deep within Shuichi to the supple skin of his face.   
  
Ryuichi tried to smile again, but his eyebrows twitched and his eyes scrunched in pain. "Please.. Shuichi. It's Ryuichi." The younger star nodded, and the tiny waterfalls continued down his cheeks. Ryuichi listened to his beautiful song one last time, the song sang with the angelic inner voice that had strived to be like his own, but was in reality the one perfect thing he had ever witnessed. Except now it was no longer energized and shining; it had slowed and mellowed. It was weeping for him. Melancholia overwhelmed Ryuichi, and his voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.   
  
Shuichi leaned closer to hear his dying friend, and when he was so near that the boy's tears were partially dried by his idol's breath, Ryuichi brushed his lips against Shuichi's. They were gone as quickly as they touched, for his energy and life was wasting away in a pool around him, even as an ambulance arrived at the scene.   
  
"Your singing... is beautiful... don't fade... this is fare... well, Shu-chan... aishi..." his mouth formed out the last two syllables of his confession, but no audibility came out. "Teru," thought Shuichi sadly.   
  
Shuichi's tiny crystalline rivers became geysers. "And I you.. Ryuichi."   
  
The older man smiled at him with his last bit of strength, and then his muscles relaxed. All of the love, sadness, and passion drained from his eyes, but they lost neither their luster nor their startling color. His head rested to one side and his eyes gently closed. The smile remained, making him look like an innocent toddler dreaming of Santa Claus and bunny rabbits and candy, except for tears raining down onto his cheeks.   
  
And as his tears flowed for both himself and the child finally freed from a man's body, he vowed never to to burn out. Just like Sakuma-san.   
  
~owari 


End file.
